Smoke
by Coral
Summary: Some reflections in Sandrine's...


Smoke  
By Coral  
  
Disclaimer: Voyager still belongs to Paramount. Unfortunately.   
  
The heavy oak doors swung shut as another couple entered Sandrine's; Kathryn glanced up briefly, before returning to nursing her drink. Smoke hung heavily in the air, shrouding the dimly lit room in a fog of mystery. Sandrine, the (holographic) proprietor of the tavern which bore her name, moved ethereally between tables; topping up a drink here, offering a touch there. A fire crackled in the grate and the pool table was back; Paris was demonstrating some shot or the other.   
  
This had been his idea; starting Sandrine's up again. A little corner of home in the Delta Quadrant, it had once been. Now it was more a reminder of times past - of the optimistic beginnings of their journey. Either worked, though. It was somewhere to come and unwind.  
  
Somewhere to cry into your (synthaholic) beer, if that was what you needed. Kathryn looked down at her half-finished pint and sighed.   
  
She had been hoping that Chakotay would show up. She'd even dropped a hint that she would be there. But so far, nothing. She was seated in the ideal position - she had a clear view of the door, but she was nearly invisible to anyone not paying too much attention to their surroundings.   
  
She wondered where he was - she'd rarely seen him recently. He'd cancelled one of their working dinners citing "a prior engagement". He'd turned down an offer of lunch because of having "other plans".   
  
She hadn't even had time to worry about that one before the Admiral had turned up and turned their lives inside out. Her promise of getting them home had fallen through; a hundred little variables had added up incorrectly and everything had gone horribly wrong. In the end, all they gained from the experience was... well... almost nothing. Just a clear image of how an old and bitter Kathryn Janeway would look.  
  
It wasn't a comforting image.   
  
Kathryn had come away with a little more than the others, though. The knowledge that Seven was going to die had scared her - when the Admiral had implied that Chakotay would die too, a part of Kathryn had panicked. Her two close friends - taken from her. And Tuvok, her oldest friend, severely ill with a mental disease. Incurable in the Delta Quadrant. No future to face outside of a scary descent into mental hell.   
  
No wonder the Admiral had turned out the way she had.   
  
Kathryn stared into the bottom of her drink and grimaced a little. Not comforting images at all.   
  
She wanted someone to talk them... it... everything over with. Tuvok wouldn't understand properly, and there was no one else she could be so brutally honest with, no one except Chakotay. And he seemed to be avoiding her. She racked her brain, trying to come up with something that she had said or done that might have caused him to keep his distance.  
  
For once, she couldn't think of a single thing.  
  
She was buried so deep in her thoughts that she almost didn't notice the door swing open once more, heralding a new arrival.   
  
But she did. Chakotay was here at last.   
  
Of course, she hadn't been expecting to see Seven of Nine - hair down, dressed in stunning civvies that accentuated *everything* - on his arm and smiling... smiling!  
  
It took Kathryn's mind several seconds to process that one. It took another few seconds for the ramifications to begin to hit; the excuses and lack of free time to be explained. She watched them as they moved across to the bar: Chakotay had that smile on his face, the one that even she had seen only rarely.   
  
The air seemed thicker all of a sudden. She knew, intellectually, that it wasn't; she also knew that the smoke hanging like a light fog around the room was only holographic, not real. But her mind didn't want to believe her, didn't know what to believe anymore.  
  
She wished she could vanish. Hell, she wished she could wake up and realise that all this had been nothing more than a bad dream.  
  
No such luck.   
  
Giving in to a morbid curiosity, she watched them. She watched them as they danced, as they hugged, as they laughed and smiled at each other. She watched them until they kissed, and she realised she couldn't watch anymore. Blinking back tears with an intensity that disturbed her, she looked back to her glass. Memories raced through her mind, of everything that they had been through and done together. How could he...   
  
"Cap... Kathryn?"  
  
Kathryn lifted her head to see B'Elanna standing opposite her. "Hey." She knew she should be more articulate, but she didn't have the energy or the motivation.   
  
"We were wondering if..." B'Elanna's voice trailed off. "Is something wrong?" she asked, concern in her voice.  
  
Kathryn rubbed her eyes with one hand, trying to hide the tears. "No, nothing. The... smoke in here is irritating my eyes a little, that's all."  
  
B'Elanna glanced over to the pool table, where Chakotay's hands were over Seven's as he tried to teach her to play pool, then looked back at Kathryn. A look of perfect comprehension softening her features, she sat down opposite Kathryn and took her commanding officer's hand in her own.  
  
~End~ 


End file.
